


He Was Blue

by whorror_jpeg



Series: Originals. [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Death, Eventual Romance, Goddesses, Gods, Government, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Other, POV Original Character, Sea Monsters, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, area 51, extra terrestrials, life - Freeform, merman, sea creatures - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 03:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15986612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whorror_jpeg/pseuds/whorror_jpeg
Summary: "He was the most beautifully undefined mistake of a being on the planet."In which an extraterrestrial finds themself caught on earth, at the hands of a neutral being.AKA I wrote an original story that I wanted attention for and don't know how to write summaries.





	He Was Blue

There was a simplicity to something so complex, something like us. The things we are. There was only us, then everything else, on the planet. Dimensional travel was never my forte, I was never the mission lead, which was cogently why I managed to find myself there, in Dimension Δ-78-4, as we had translated for Them, the Latin speakers before this time, as they called the language. They were ahead, for being so precisely unguided and lost in their creation from Ape to Human. Undoubtedly, they would never reach the pique of existence, not while still wondering the meaning of their lives and coming up with excuses as to why, why they were made, why they lived. This sparked fear, creating religion, thus slowing the advancements they could be making in their technology. Fear ate them to near extinction and, at the same time, overpopulation.

 

The only beings I met that were so advanced they didn’t need such things, no reason to leave the stardust and particles of being . More than human, than terrestrial- more than celestial .  They control the universe in a never-ending cycle of life and death, chasing each other and constantly working, never for a profit and never for competition; merely for the sole purpose of keeping life itself continued, because death is merely a symptom of creation. Nothing more. Everything dissolves in the entirety of the universe in an eventual winning battle, only to be reused or recycled into something new of equivalence. 

 

They are the creators of worlds when they touch, the enders of astrological movement when they saw fit. They are the explosively calm energy of everything and nothing all at once; if anyone is a god, it is them.

 

But they are just living and dead concepts of time and immortality, as real as nothing and life.

 

I quite admired the human Isaac Newton. He was so close to the discovery of existence, only to die in shortcoming. That was the hapless part of humans, so creative and explorative, yet so, so fragile and… immortal.

Newton had said a body in motion will stay in motion unless acted upon by another force- and vice versa; a body's rate of change of momentum is proportional to the force causing it; and finally, when a force acts on a body due to another body, then an equal and opposite force acts simultaneously on that body.

 

He never had the imagination to connect all in one law, circling around the process of death and life, their equivalence, their polarness, all because of fear. A being like them could  _ only  _ revolve around it; the ten percent neuro-activities’ potential is only thus far, yet to excelle by much in such little time (another curious, fear-driven concept), only an approximate three percent. Had they known how to consciously use more of their brain rather than subconsciously, they would find no need to be so primitive. They couldn’t do that yet,  save for a few individual humans that were more than human and less than terrestrial. A larger number of thirty-nine percent, already developing the ability to have a hive mind within independence (something that usually required at least sixty-four percent brain consciousness).

 

An organism will continue to live unless acted upon by some other thing (i.e. killed, injured, or ill), and will only be killed if that thing is as equal to the being as it is to the organism. When the organism dies, it will degrade into something of equal atom levels, weight, energy, and other components, much opposite, though.

 

The only other being I met anything close to celestial reality, was  _ him _ . By all means, he was the most beautifully undefined mistake of a being on the planet. I want to explore his biology, his DNA, see the inner workings of such a being, but knew better than to touch such an organism without godlike punctiliousness, without the equal care and love- the precision, the universe put into making him, and they made him for a firm reason, unbeknownst to myself.

 

Perhaps the entirety of his being was meant for finding the humanity in other beings, to take a Guardian that resonated with culture, a God that could destroy populations with the intent to do so, or show them mercy if He believed in the deserving. But it was prophecy, almost. Details inscribed in his nature, in his entity, it all came natural, he was a neutral being.

 

He seemed less than human when I first met him.

 

The day I met him wasn’t supposed to happen, I was assigned on a lone mission in a different galaxy of a different dimension of a different reality, and yet I still ended up in the North Atlantic Ocean, sinking from water getting into the missile hit ship I used. The American government did not take kindly to others, aliens and terrestrials all the same to them, all invaders willing to take a poor body. 

 

The water burned my skin, and although I was adapt to breathing underwater, it was like breathing the most irrefutably poisonous air; all due to pollution and decay following years of abuse to the world. That’s what humans created in their wake; destruction and chaos and beauty.

 

The sea salt grasped my lungs, burning it with every breath I took, made my chest heavy and cave, it blinded my eyes and choked my nose, my ears popped as the ship continued to sink. My vision darkened, and the pounding in my ears got louder, felt like it was crushing my skull.  _ Was this fear?  _

 

And then he came, he was the one pounding on the doors, it wasn’t my ears bursting. It was him, trying to break open the windows and doors with large hands and teeth. Initially, I thought this was the end, the end of my existence, my mission left failed. But it wasn’t. 


End file.
